Kampala, Uganda

Uganda was appealing because I knew nothing about it. It sounded a bit off the beaten path, so I decided to wing it in good style - no plans, no arrangements, totally clueless about practicalities such as currency, entry requirements, accommodation, and food. Where the heck is Kampala anyways?

The 14-hour, cross-border night bus from Nairobi could have been worse. It brought back memories... I sat in the far rear corner of the bus, sandwiched between the window and a huge woman, my backpack on my lap.

Uganda is much more pleasant than Kenya. The infrastructure is far better, and people are mellow ("lazier than Kenyans" as a cab driver put it). Less harassment on the streets, and lacking the anonymous Kenya engagements that go something like this:

"Hello! Mista! Where from? Which country?"
"States."
"Ahhh, the United States of America. Barack Obama! Los Angeles, Miami."
"Yes, that's right, President Obama..."
"There is much prejudice in the States?"
"Prejudice? Nope, not anymore. That's why we have Obama."
"You have time to talk with me? I want to ask you many question about your country."
"Sorry friend, have to be going."
" You are prejudice? Don't want to talk with African man?"